That headline, though.
During Sunday’s episode of Keeping Up With The Kardashians, Kim wrote a blog about racism. I’m writing a blog about how I can’t grow up.
Does that make Kim more mature than me?
Maybe. I haven’t decided yet.
I graduated college in December and I’m reminded of it every day because my alumni card sits atop Erma Bombeck books right next to my bed.
But I’m also living at home and you know that saying about how you’re always 17 in your hometown or something like that? That’s so completely true in my case.
If college made me even a slight extrovert, it’s all gone now. I’m back to my old introverted ways and leave my bedroom as little as possible. I’m like a cat. A blogging cat.
I’m making strides, though. For instance, now I sing the cuss words in a song in front of my parents when we’re singing along in the car. It’s liberating. Really.
Progress to growing up:
I’ve somewhat stopped playing mind games with guys. Instead, I’ve actually told them I’m not interested and I don’t want their free meal.
I think boys are gross and dumb and I haven’t been attracted to a male that isn’t Ryan Tedder since moving home.
I drank wine in front of my parents at a family wedding. I’m 23.
I still order from the kid’s menu at Pei Wei.
Instead of eating or sleeping, I now work out when I’m feeling down.
I watched The Parent Trap yesterday and a tear welled up in my eye. THAT LAST SCENE WHERE DENNIS QUAID KISSES NATASHA (rest in peace). It’s so beautiful.
I wash my face before bed, so I don’t end up an old tired-looking woman.
I read all of Taylor Swift’s old Myspace blogs because I was bored.
I entertained the idea of trying out for The Bachelor just because.
I didn’t because my father said no. I’m 23.
Someone share their lame stories with me, so I don’t feel as lame.